


Making it Up as we Go

by goldengoddess



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, disgustingly sappy boyfriends who love eachother and want to see each other be their best self, gay epiphanies, its gay, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengoddess/pseuds/goldengoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Well, I guess we’ll have to be little elderly men in our big dusty house together.” He smiled, Genji had made a tiny braid, letting it fall easily out as he shook Jesse’s cheeks with his hands jokingly.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i> “That’s pretty gay, Jesse.”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Jesse laughed bright. Jesse had always laughed that way.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Making it Up as we Go

**Author's Note:**

> @zoe thenks mather for my life
> 
> so i usually think about mcgenji as being mostly blackwatch and then old gay friends overwatch, but then the revelation of rly gay friends blackwatch to really gay boyfriends overwatch was decreed, and i was a changed man.
> 
> alt title apparently is: "the bible, part 2"

                He had kissed him. He had kissed him. They had looked at each other afterwards and laughed, it hadn’t done anything for either of them. They were friends- the best of them- disgusting and affectionate friends who slaughtered opposition, battlefield and in game. They wore each other’s clothing and played pranks on others and were nearly inseparable. It had been hard leaving Blackwatch, pulling away from friends, from him, but Genji was ready. It was time to go back.

                +

                “Jesse!” Genji cried, pulling him into a bear hug. Now that he was older, he knew his strength better, but his emotions took him over. When he released Jesse was red in the face.

                “Tryin’ to kill me within the three seconds we’ve seen each other again, partner?” he laughed, left hand on Genji’s cheek, right under his elbow. Despite the asphyxiation, Jesse was grinning wide as a cat, his eyes crinkled up all brown and sunshine. “It’s been too long.”

                “Too long, Jesse.” He agreed, placing his hand on McCree’s, he wanted to stay there forever, “Who else is here?”

                “Oh! I’ll show you the old dinin’ hall.”

                +

                “So there I was, jus’ me against four old gang members brandishin’ automatics- I just used two of the six bullets on the last guy, I get shot in the arm- thankfully the prosthetic-“ McCree tapped his metal hand, “and I’m lying on the ground hoping Jesus is watching me as I fan the hammer and all four knock dead as a doorknob!” He took a hefty sip of the coffee and smiled proud, Genji’s chin in his hand watching the theatrics. “That’s mostly what I’ve been doing, I s’pose, what about you?”

                Genji blinked, he had directed the conversation on him, “Oh, lots of meditating. I taught children in the village martial arts for awhile. And I gardened.” He shrugged, “Not much looking back, but enough.”

                “Sounds peaceful.” Jesse said. “Take pictures? I hear its beautiful up there.”

                “It’s gorgeous.” Genji sat up, “Like nothing you’ve ever seen- pristine white mountains, and the houses are so charming. If I could paint I would have done it nonstop- you would have loved it, Jesse.”

                “Oh yeah?” He said, “Maybe you’ll take me there on a mission one day.” Genji was almost sure he was joking, but Jesse’s eyes twinkled, and that could only mean he was genuine about what he was saying. And Genji was not unsure that he wanted to take him to where he had called home for the past few years.

                “Perhaps.” Genji smiled.

                +

                There had been so much they did not know about each other. It was small things, things Genji took for granted after being so close to him. Jesse woke up at six now, showered before he ate, he had learned the piano in the time between Blackwatch and recall- how he had found time and a place to practice beyond him. He had even seen his family again, something Genji knew was a small revolution for the man after all that had happened. He supposed Jesse felt the same way about Genji’s new life. Genji read more than a book a year, he learned how to knit, hell- he gardened. Jesse had said it himself, the younger Genji would not have had anywhere near the patience to wait for a patch of beans to finally fruit. There was an insurmountable heap of tiny facts and bits that were different.

                But not everything was different, Genji still loved video games when he had time, McCree was still an absolute die hard for westerns. Genji loved reading, Jesse still wore his old fraying serape and ridiculous belt buckle. Everything Genji had loved about Jesse was still there, maybe softened or tucked away, but still there. He wondered how their younger selves would have reacted to meeting them now.

                Jesse and Genji sparred together, they walked, talked, sat in the rec room watching westerns while Genji knit together. Genji listened to Jesse play the guitar while he read, listened to Jesse yell about his favorite characters, listened to him cuss out the enemy team over the com during battle. It didn’t matter what he was saying- as long as he was saying something, making up for lost time. Genji sought him out after battles to hear him speak in the way he did about their work. In his dramatic, arms waving, mile wide smile or otherwise, he wanted to be with him, stay by his side.

                There was so much they did not know about each other.

                +

                “I want to be ugly ass old men together, Genji.” Jesse had said, head in Genji’s lap on some unused couch in the abandoned dorm common room, late into the night. They should have been asleep, there was work to be done tomorrow. “Like, I want to have a three legged cat- oh God, we should name it Clint- a three legged cat and we’d get one of those old Victorians- the ones with secret hallways- and we can sit on the front porch and yell at children who get in our lawn.”

                Genji chuckled, his fingers spinning in Jesse’s hair as he spoke. “If we get a house like that, we’ll need a maid, with us being old and all.”

                “Oh yeah, huh.” Jesse sounded stumped, “We’ll get Commander Morrison to do it. Give him the guest room.”

                “He’ll be more decrepit than us.” He laughed.

                Jesse looked at him, unreadable. No, not unreadable. No expression was unreadable on Jesse, it was a mix of fondness and familiarity, adoration, if Genji would allow himself to say that. But then again, it was Jesse, and Jesse was full to the brim with adoration and the capacity to love.

                “I suppose so. Maybe Fareeha will help her old men?”

                “Doubtful.”

                “Well, I guess we’ll have to be little elderly men in our big dusty house together.” He smiled, Genji had made a tiny braid, letting it fall easily out as he shook Jesse’s cheeks with his hands jokingly.

 “That’s pretty gay, Jesse.”

                Jesse laughed bright. Jesse had always laughed that way.

                +

                The shooting range was empty, save for them and bird that had gotten in and nested in the rafters. Jesse twirled his guns on his fingers, grabbing them with a wink at Genji. He pulled a wired pair of bright orange earplugs out of the box and slung them around his neck, leaning against the railing between the booth and the lane. “Come here often, babe?” Genji walked around him. “Damn, you haven’t seen me shoot in what, seven years?”

                He shook his head and pulled a handgun off the wall, the panel sliding back behind the metal with an airlock hiss. “And how I missed it so.” He placed a hand over his heart, “But how could I forget you shooting over my shoulder and blowing out my eardrums?”

                Jesse blushed, “Aw, jeez, I’m still sorry about that, Genji,”

                “Don’t sweat it,” he waved his hand, “it’s in the past, I forgot about it.”

                He shook his head with a short laugh and lined himself up to shoot. Genji stopped at the lane next to him, readying himself as well.

                “Together?” Jesse asked.

                “On one, two, three-“ _blam blam._ They shot at the same time, laughing as Genji hit the shoulder of the human shaped cutout, while Jesse dead in the skull. “Not bad,” Genji said, “But you haven’t quite made me remember how you really fight.”

                “Oh, what’s it, this time? You want me to use shurikens?” He put his hands on his hips, waiting for a response.

                “No, I want to spar with me.” He said, “No weapons.” Genji added.

                “Well, sure.”

                +

                Jesse panted, falling down to a sitting position on the mat, Genji plopping down with a huff. He looked up and smiled, his face glowing from the match. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked over Genji like he was never going to see him again. “God, Genji, I think I’ve missed you.” Jesse finally spoke.

                “Yeah?” Genji stretched out his legs, yawning and cracking his back, “What did you miss?”

                Jesse thought, of course he took the question seriously, “Just, everything, really. Is that a good answer?” No comment, “I guess I missed our friendship the most out of Blackwatch. I wish you got cell service up in the mountains, or there had been some way to contact you.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, “I dunno, I’m just glad you’re back, we’re back. It’s nice to have a friend.”

                “You had Angela or Reinhardt, didn’t you contact them?”

                He sat up a little straighter, “Well, yeah, but it’s not the same, you know? I love Angie to death but her and the old man just don’t beat the golden Genji Shimada.” He laughed to himself, “They don’t beat you.”

                Genji smiled, he pulled his legs in, closer now to Jesse, “You are right, no one can beat me.” He said, more than a little devious.

                “Hey, this was a onetime thing, I’ll get you next time, I swear!” he said without conviction. Genji would always win, where Jesse had better aim, Genji was faster, where Jesse had brute strength, Genji knew where to hit where it hurt. But he didn’t say what was on his mind, Jesse just sitting in front, cooling down, happy to be alone with him, happy to be together again. Genji wondered why they connected so well, and was thankful that it had not taken much to feel the same sway and rhythm they had as young adults.

                +

                Jesse took his hand gently, with the cadence of a gardener and her prized flowers. His fingertips were calloused from guns, from guitars, but felt nice against the metal. Genji was tired today, he had been tired for a week now, a month. He had finally tracked down Hanzo. He was far from being ready to confront him, far from ready to deal with what had happened and to forgive him, but Hanzo was alive. He had left the clan. Hanzo was a mercenary and had been spotted in southern France on a kill.

                “You don’t have to do anything before you’re ready.” Jesse said. It was too dark to see his face properly, the moon was new and all stars were blocked by clouds brimming and rolling with rain ready to fall. He nodded, he knew this was true.

                “Thank you.” Genji said, laying his head on Jesse’s shoulder. He needed to hear it. He needed to hear it from someone he cared about, someone who knew him, someone who would never leave him. He needed to hear it from Jesse.

                +

Fuck.

               Genji saw three men go down with a red flash. Jesse jumped from his perch above the road and landed before him, running to gun down the rest of the enemies ahead. He turned and waved at Genji, laughing over the intercom- as light and carefree as a man could be after a kill. It was the adrenaline. Genji told himself it was the adrenaline.

                He waved back, stepping into a run to follow McCree and his red waving flag. He was probably still wearing that smile, ready to charge head on. Fuck. Genji looked at his hand, counted how many throwing stars he had left, and turned the corner to see McCree dodge a bullet and send two more men to the grave.

                It was hard to think about Blackwatch and his time there without thinking about Jesse. It was hard to think about Jesse without thinking of a life he wanted to live, wanted to see through and keep with. And maybe it was due to Jesse’s rather archetypal vocabulary, but the more Genji thought of it, the more he found the word “partner” to mean one thing and one thing exclusively: Jesse McCree.

                God _damn_ it.

                Maybe he had always known it. Maybe it had always been there. He tried to believe they had just been friends all that time, but more and more it seemed like a badly written farce. How many times had they told each other they loved them? Maybe it had always been platonic, but maybe Genji had been in love. Was in love. He ran to catch up with Jesse.

                “Whaddya think of my trick back there, huh, daisy?” he said out of the side of his grin. How many times had he called him something sweet with that smile? Was it all friendly?

                “I think you’re losing touch. The McCree I knew could Deadeye sixteen guys on the battlefield at one time.”

                McCree elbowed him and laughed, “Ah, I’m getting’ old.” He shook it off, “What about you? How you holding up?”

                Genji blinked. “I’m alright. You haven’t left me with much work, though.” Was love always an epiphany? Had it always been like that for him? He couldn’t remember the last time he had truly felt in love. Maybe when he was twenty-one? Twenty-two? McCree looked down at his shoes, bashful in his blubbering way.

                “Aw, shucks, you flatter me.” Genji elbowed him this time.

                “Do you still want a three legged cat?” He asked suddenly. He wasn’t sure where the words had come from. Jesse looked up with a smile.

                “You still remember that?”

                “Well,” He looked away, then back, “Yeah, and you wanted a Victorian.”

                He shook his head, laughing in the memory, “If you’re offering, I mean-“

                “Jesse, when you said you wanted- when you said you wanted to grow old with me- do you still mean it?” he bit his lip to stop his heart from clawing out. He could see Jesse go through several emotions at once before he looked up.

                “Never stopped.”

                Oh God.

                “Jesse,” he began again, voice more timid in its steps, “Do you still love me?”

                “Always will.”

                Something about the simplicity of the answer, how common, how well worn, how comfortable it was got him. And they had always been in love, hadn’t they? The time on the couch, the time under the bridge at night, when the stars were blinding and Jesse’s easy laugh was better than anything his old life could have offered him, when the stars were gone and all that was left were his quiet confirmations and steady voice, that had all proved it.

                Jesse turned to shoot an oncoming storm, Genji raised his sword.

                +

                Genji finished the letter. It had been a long time since he had sat down and spelt words on a paper in ink, and longer since he had sent it through the postal service with several stamps for international purposes. Jesse was sitting on the floor, back against the couch Genji was on, hearing out a small tune on his guitar, stuck at some chorus riff.

                Genji folded and inserted the letter into the envelope, sealing it and setting it beside him, patting the cushion to his left to beckon Jesse up. He took the offer and draped his body over, legs falling off the edge, wavy brown hair in Genji’s lap, guitar on his own.

                “Sing me a B natural, I think mine’s off.” He said, plucking a string.

                “Your ears would start bleeding, I think.” Genji said, running his hands through his hair.

                “Hmpf, if only Lucio was on base. I think Lena said he’s got perfect pitch.” He mumbled, trying to tune the one sad string. He played the tune again, sounding better in the slightest, the b still dissonant and odd.

                “Stop it.” Genji said, leaning his head down.

                “Stop what, huh, sugar?” He grinned, his eyes twinkling.

                “You can tune it later, Jesse.” He said.

                “For what? So I can give you attention? Gosh, Genji,” He laughed, affectionate, lifting his chin an inch to lay a kiss on Genji’s faceplate. He blushed from under the mask, leaning back to let Jesse try his guitar again, keeping his hand in his hair.

                After so many years they were still friends- the best of them. They were disgusting and affectionate and flirted like the world was about to end. They were constantly making jokes and laughing and making Hana gag at how gross they were, but God, they were friends. Genji loved Jesse, always had. It had been difficult leaving Blackwatch, difficult joining Overwatch again, but it was worth it. It had been worth it.

               

               


End file.
